Can I Trust My Soul?

I’ve been sitting with a question that I don’t think I can answer quickly. It’s not one of those questions that comes with a clear response or a neat conclusion. It’s the kind that follows you. That shows up in different moments. That changes shape depending on where you are and how honest you’re willing to be. Can I trust my soul?

Not my thoughts.
Not my plans.
Not the version of my life that makes sense when I say it out loud. My soul. I think for a long time, I believed trust meant certainty. That if I was truly aligned, everything would feel clear. There would be no hesitation. No second-guessing.
No moments of pause where I questioned myself.

But that hasn’t been my experience. What I’ve been experiencing feels different. Quieter.

There are moments where something feels right in my body before I can explain it. Not exciting. Not overwhelming. Just… settled.

Like a soft yes and every time I feel it, I notice the same pattern.I leave it. I go from feeling… to thinking. Is this the right decision? Does this make sense long term? How will this look? How do I explain this? Will this hold up if someone questions me?

And slowly, without even realizing it, I disconnect from the very thing that gave me the answer in the first place. I’ve been thinking about how often I do that. How quickly I override myself not because I don’t know but because I don’t fully trust what I know
unless I can translate it into something that makes sense to everyone else.

And I’m starting to realize that might be the thing that’s keeping me stuck. Some of the most important decisions in my life didn’t come with language they came with a feeling. A shift. A knowing.

And I followed it. And later, it made sense. But somewhere along the way, I started reversing that process. I started waiting for things to make sense first. Waiting until I could explain it.
Justify it. Lay it out in a way that felt structured and safe. I think I created distance between me and myself because my soul doesn’t speak in bullet points.

It doesn’t present arguments.
It doesn’t wait until everything is clear.

It just… knows.

And that knowing is quiet.

Which makes it easy to miss.

Especially in a life that is loud.

Because everything around us is asking us to think.

To plan.
To optimize.
To be strategic.
To make decisions that can be defended and I understand that there’s value in that, but I don’t think that’s the only way we’re meant to move through our lives.

Lately, I’ve been feeling the effects of living too far in my head. Burnout didn’t just make me tired it made me disconnected. Disconnected from my body and when you’re disconnected like that, everything starts to feel uncertain. Because you can’t hear yourself clearly anymore.

So I’ve been coming back slowly. I’ve been sitting outside more.

Not scrolling.
Not working.
Not turning it into content.

Just sitting.

Letting the sun hit my skin. Listening to the wind move through the trees. Feeling my body exist without needing to produce anything. At first, it felt… unfamiliar. I didn’t quite know what to do with that stillness but then something shifted. I started noticing things again.

My breath.
My thoughts slowing down.
The way my body actually feels when I’m not rushing it through the day and in those moments, I started to hear myself again. I realized something that I think I’ve always known, but never fully trusted. I don’t need more information. I need more connection because when I’m connected to myself, I don’t question every decision. I don’t over-explain everything. I don’t feel the need to justify what already feels right.

I move with enough trust to take the next step. And maybe that’s what trusting your soul actually looks like… trusting that something in you already knows enough to guide you forward.

So now I’m asking myself different questions.

Not:
“Does this make sense?”

But:
“Does this feel true?”

Not:
“Can I explain this?”

But:
“Can I stay with this?”

Not:
“What’s the outcome?”

But:
“What is this asking of me right now?”

I’ve been sitting with those questions instead of rushing to answer them because I think we move too fast sometimes. We feel something and immediately try to define it. Understand it. Turn it into a decision.

What if we… stayed with it? Let it unfold. Let it show us what it means
without forcing it into something we can explain. I know that’s not always easy because there’s a part of us that wants control.

That wants certainty and to know exactly where we’re going before we take a step. I don’t think life works like that. I think life meets you as you move. I think trusting yourself is less about knowing the destination and more about believing you can handle whatever you find along the way.

I’ve been giving myself time outside. Not as something I earn after being productive. But as something I need. The same way we track steps, the same way we commit to routines,

I’ve been asking myself:

What would it look like to be just as intentional about being present?

To actually let my body catch up to my life.

So here’s what I’m trying this week and maybe you can try it with me. Give yourself time outside. Not rushed. Not distracted. Just you. Sit somewhere. Walk slowly. Touch something real and while you’re there, don’t try to figure your life out.

Just listen.

Notice what comes up.
Notice what feels heavy.
Notice what feels clear.

And then ask yourself, gently:

What have I been overthinking that actually just needs my trust?

What feels right that I keep trying to make logical?

Where am I asking for proof when I already have a knowing?

What would it look like to move without explaining it first?

You don’t have to answer everything. You don’t have to make a decision right away.Just stay with yourself. That’s where trust begins. Not in having all the answers. But in being connected enough to hear them when they come.

I’m still learning. I’m still figuring it out but I do feel something shifting.

Less force. More listening. Less explaining. More trusting. If there’s anything I’m taking with me from this season, it’s, I don’t need to have it all figured outto start trusting the part of me
that already knows.

And maybe…

neither do you.